James McLain Poems

Incoherent, wreaking of evil..
The stench of death..sour sweat.
The authorities know..
The child has seen this evil..
...

She learns to dance around it and she's
learning to how be her own teacher.
No one sees her smile but the mirror
her thighs longs to tan the wood with oil.
...

Chance, brown luck it doesn't matter.
The chance to live in a nice home in
the center of the universe, new world.
A new chance each year to change
...

The brown cane
is placed through
wooden rollers.
...

When love Is like the fire on Ice, she needs;
She cools fire and ice is to burn again.
The hard frozen heart cools never a thought,
of one single flake that settles on the fire to melt.
...

How many..
Does one oak..
The tree count..
One acorn...one cup..
...

Does it for you, even you wash
all of your secrets that you keep.
While you trade yours for time,
with the memories of your totem
...